"Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." ~ W.B. Yeats
| Welcome to the story of the birth of an extraordinary school: The Village School. What is The Village School? It is a place where learners are valued for their intrinsic knowing and much of our curriculum is based on real life experience. A place where children are free play and laugh like children, and more importantly, to be themselves.

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Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Funny story...

I had called The Ministry of Education (from now on known as MinEd, cause let's face it, who wants to be typing and reading "Ministry. Of. Education" all the time?) - anyway I rang to figure out my first step in school starting and was told to come down and pick up the application form.

I was so excited I got up bright and late the next morning and headed out on a mission, which included a trip to the pool afterward. After some difficulty finding a way to access the oh-so-large and clearly-visable-yet-somehow-completely-inaccessible-from-the-road building, we finally got into the parking lot. Which turned out to be a fruitless victory due to a chronic lack of parking for regular human visitors.

Anyway, drama of parking aside, we trekked to the entry point. Upon approaching the miniature playhouse - er, i mean security guard hut thingie I noticed two things: (well, three actually):

The Security Guard was otherwise engaged on a Very Important Phone CallA sign telling people that they must be "Appropriately Dressed" to enter the building. AndA forlorn looking young woman waiting by the Security Hut Checkpoint Place

Anyway, after The Very Important Phone Call was over, the Security Guard directed me to the sign-in book at the table behind his Hut. But wait! You can't go in, he said.

HUH?

Do you have a jacket in your car?, he asked as he sort glanced around the general vicinity of my visible swimsuit straps.

Me: No, I can fix that! *easily ducking out of the halter style straps and tucking them away*

SG: (Again) Do you have a jacket or something in your car you can wear?

Me: No.

SG: Sorry you can't go in "like that".

Me: *scoff!* You're not serious?! All I need to do is pick up a form from MinEd!

SG: Sorry, this is what (-get this!-) The Permanent Secretary told us. Not my rules.

Well, it goes on for a bit; him explaining that those were The Rules and me telling him what a silly rule it was and eventually making sure I got him to admit (albeit whilst casting furtive glances and whispering in low tones) that it was, indeed, a DUMB rule. And THEN I noticed #3 again: the forlorn looking young woman who is wearing - (drumroll, please!) a spaghetti strapped dress and therefore cannot enter into the sacred halls of Noshoulderdom.

Lauryn is as baffled and confounded as I am about the rule and asks why they won't let me in. I tell her, a little loudly, that they must be AFRAID of SHOULDERS OR SOMETHING *cough cough*.

I noticed a woman wearing a marvelous turquoise pashmina and as she sped by me I tapped her shoulder and asked her if she would please grant me the most odd and giant favor.

And she did.

And I donned this unknown to me woman's perfumed pashmina; and me and my two children marched up to the office, collected our forms, marched back down, returned the bright shining wrap and went on our merry way. Leaving kindly SG (who was still apologizing as we passed by in our whirlwind of accomplishment) with great big smiles of gratitude and blessings of peace; even sympathetic glances at dear Forlorna - and we were ON OUR WAY to the pool and to our destiny!